


This Is The Night

by santana-lopez (nightshifted)



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-21
Updated: 2011-10-21
Packaged: 2017-10-24 20:08:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/267366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightshifted/pseuds/santana-lopez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After stumbling over and over, after fighting to show Brittany that she's in it for the long run, after coming out to everyone – the school, her friends, her family, after <i>everything</i> the two of them have been through, they still haven't gone on a proper date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Is The Night

The sight of Lima disappearing behind them in the horizon is surprisingly freeing.

From the front of the bus, Rachel and Mercedes's singing voices carry over. " _In New Yooork, concrete jungle where dreams are made of_ …"

" _There's nothing you can't do_ ," Tina joins in, " _now you're in New York, New York, New Yooork_."

Brittany peers over the seat in front of her and grabs Santana's wrist eagerly and tugs. "Come on, why're we sitting all the way back here?"

Santana stays put. "Hold up. I need to ask you something. It'll only take a minute."

Brittany turns her head and smiles. "What's up?"

Santana swallows hard. After stumbling over and over, after fighting to show Brittany that she's in it for the long run, after coming out to everyone – the school, her friends, her family, after _everything_ the two of them have been through, they still haven't gone on a proper date. Breadstix is great and everything, but it's freaking Lima, and while Santana knows that her repertoir of vicious, vicious words could cut through anyone who dares glance disapprovingly at them, she doesn't want to deal with any of that on a night that's supposed to be strictly about the two of them. She wants to feel safe. She wants to be able let her guard down and act like a real _couple_ without feeling the judgment closing in on her.

She wants to do everything _right_.

"Santana?" Brittany nudges her gently. "Hey, everything okay?"

"Go out with me," Santana blurts out, feeling her cheeks flushing. "Please," she adds. "We have the night before the competition off to explore the city, and I made us reservations at this little Italian place near our hotel. We can do that stupid meatball thing if you want. I mean, it's not stupid. We can do it." Santana laughs a little. "If you want," she finishes weakly.

Brittany leans in and presses a lingering kiss to Santana's lips. "You're really cute when you're nervous," she whispers.

Santana exhales. "So is that a yes?"

"Silly," Brittany murmurs, dropping another kiss. "Yes, of course I'll go out with you." She tugs at Santana's hand again. "Now come on."

Santana smiles and lets Brittany drag her to the front of the bus to join the others.

\--

Santana sprawls out across the hotel bed and stares up at the ceiling. They'd arrived earlier in the day, after a nearly twenty-hour trip, but Santana had caught plenty of shuteye on the bus, her head resting comfortably on Brittany's shoulder, so she'd been good for the day while a few of the guys had needed power naps to recharge.

She'd been roomed with Mercedes, which is okay, but Mr. Schue had fumbled his way through an awkward explanation about why he couldn't put Brittany and Santana together, which had so totally been _not_ okay, but whatever.

They're here, finally, and Santana is an hour away from taking Brittany on their first real date. A slow creep of anxiety spreads out from her chest, but she jumps up from the bed and heads to the bathroom in an attempt to circumvent it.

Mercedes is there, arranging her toiletries on the counter.

Santana crosses her arms over her chest. "Weezy, you're gonna need to clear this space tonight."

Mercedes looks up and makes a face. "Uh, and why would I want to do that?"

"Just do it, all right?" Santana steps into the bathroom, taking a quick peek at the mirror. "I need the room to myself."

Mercedes stands her ground, unconvinced. "Look, if you want me and Brittany to swap, you're gonna have to come out and ask."

"I'm taking her out tonight," Santana explains in a hurry. It comes out quieter than she'd intended, and she clears her throat. "Don't look at me like that, all right? It's—it's our first date. First real one, and if we walk in and you're lumbering around, that'll just kill the mood."

"Okay, first of all," Mercedes says, raising a finger in front of her face, "you need to learn how to ask for favors. Second, why the hell should I do this for you?"

Santana stands straighter, dropping her arms. "Don't you get it? We can't wander the streets of Lima holding hands. I can't kiss her whenever I want. If I took her out to Breadstix and looked at her the way I want to look at her, we'd get judgmental fucks leering at us." She stops to take a breath, her own words instilling an old fear in her. "I'm not saying this place is some gay land sprinkled with magic pixie dust, but compared to back home, it's a safe haven." Her voice softens. "One night without constantly looking over our shoulders, that's all I want."

Mercedes swallows visibly and stares down at the counter. She nods her head slowly. "I'll work it out with Tina. I'll be gone long before you get back."

"Thanks, Mercedes," Santana manages, turning to leave.

"Hey," Mercedes calls out. "You're not planning on going out with that outfit, are you?"

Santana looks down at her skin-tight black-and-green striped dress. "What's wrong with it? I look hot."

Mercedes rolls her eyes. "It gets cold at night. Grab a jacket."

\--

It takes Santana three tries before she works up the courage to knock on Brittany's hotel room door, which is pathetic. When she finally raps her knuckles against the wooden door, it swings open immediately.

"Oh, thank god. For a sec I thought you were a robot," Brittany announces casually.

Santana does a double-take. "You _what_?"

"Well," Brittany explains, "I was looking through the peephole, and you totally like, didn't move for an entire minute."

Santana frowns. "Why didn't you just open the door? It would've saved me a ton of misery."

Brittany's eyes widen seriously. "But what if you were a scout for the robot army?"

"I—" Santana shakes her head, hiding her smile. "Never mind. Ready to go?"

Brittany pulls her into the room and shuts the door behind them. Immediately, she pins Santana to the wall and presses their lips together. Brittany's hands skirt up Santana's sides, and Santana moans, her arms looping around to the small of Brittany's back, pulling her closer, needing to feel her warmth. Santana's heart pounds steadily, but she feels the familiar ache bubbling at the pit of her stomach.

Brittany lifts away first, peppering a row of kisses down Santana's jaw line and neck before rising to plant one on the tip of her nose.

"Brittany…"

"What?" Brittany asks innocently, sliding a leg between Santana's and pressing.

Santana gasps and shuts her eyes. Her body jerks. "We should gay. _Go! Shit._ We should go."

Brittany giggles against the column of Santana's neck. "You sure about that?"

"No, but—" Santana musters every ounce of willpower she has and grabs Brittany's wandering hands, stilling them. "We're going to miss our reservation."

"Okay," Brittany relents, untangling herself from Santana. "Let's go. I don't think Tina would appreciate it if we started having sex in front of her."

Tina's head suddenly peers out from around the corner. She smiles sheepishly at Santana. "I wasn't watching."

"Why not?" Santana asks with a smirk. "We put on a good show."

"Leave Tina alone," Brittany orders, reaching over to pull the door open. She grabs her purse and guides Santana out, waving quickly at Tina before closing the door again. Brittany cocks her head curiously. "Where are you taking me?"

"Dinner reservations are at seven, and then we can just… wander around. I don't know. We can do anything we want." Santana grins and slips her fingers through Brittany's. "We can do anything we want," she repeats, softer. "Nobody here knows who we are."

Brittany beams. "I know who we are."

Santana leans in and presses a quick kiss to Brittany's lips. "Yeah, me too."

\--

Santana had chosen a restaurant four blocks away from their hotel, and they walk over hand-in-hand, shoulders occasionally bumping. The streets around their hotel are alive with chatter, but Santana, tuned in to Brittany's movements, hears none of it. She'd never wanted to stay in Lima for the rest of her life, but it isn't until she'd laid out plans in her head about her and Brittany's future that her determination had flared full force.

They'll make it out, the two of them. Santana will make sure of it.

"Everything's so bright," Brittany marvels, face turned up toward the flashing buildings. "It's so pretty."

Santana's looking at Brittany when she replies, "Yeah, sure is."

They've still got an hour before their reservation, so they play the role of tourists, wandering around and marveling at everything in sight. Brittany's been to Amsterdam with her family, but Santana's never been outside of Ohio. The streets are a little louder, a lot more lively, and Santana falls in love with the bustle of the city. Brittany's hand stays tightly clasped in Santana's the entire time, and when Santana leans over, intending to brush a kiss to Brittany's cheek, Brittany turns her head, and Santana catches the corner of her mouth instead. Brittany smiles, cheeks tingeing pink as she leans in for a second kiss.

It's the freedom Santana hasn't allowed herself to enjoy back home. It's the freedom that she doesn't _have_ back home. It's the looks that hurt no matter how much she pretends they don't, the ugly words, the ignorance.

Nowhere is perfect, she knows, but she wants tonight to be exactly that.

Another half-hour of sightseeing, and they start heading toward the restaurant. Santana doesn't get nervous until they're seated on the same side of a booth and it kind of hits her all at once that they're really doing this. She waits for Brittany to open her menu before doing the same.

"What're you getting?" Santana asks casually.

"Spaghetti."

Santana smiles nervously. "So we're really going to do the meatball thing?"

Brittany's eyes lower momentarily. "Don't you want to?"

"No, yeah, of course, I just—okay. Okay, yeah. Let's do it."

Santana orders a fettuccini alfredo for herself, and as soon as the waiter brings them their drinks, she grabs her iced tea and sips anxiously at it.

Brittany's left hand runs up Santana's thigh. "Why are you nervous?" Brittany asks softly.

"I'm not," Santana fibs.

Brittany's hand finds and closes around Santana's as she leans closer. "It's just me."

"I know, I—" Santana takes a deep breath. "I've made you wait so long for this, that I just—"

"Santana," Brittany cuts in, laughing a little. "Kiss me?"

Without waiting for Santana's answer, Brittany presses her lips gently against Santana's. Brittany smiles brightly when she pulls away.

"How many more times am I going to have to do that before you remember who I am?"

Santana laughs in spite of herself. "Three."

Brittany pecks Santana three times in quick succession. "Better?"

Santana squeezes Brittany's hand and nods. Brittany launches into a story about her cat – the fat one – and Santana finds herself mesmerized by the way Brittany's facial features shift like an emotional landscape of her storytelling. Santana pulls Brittany's hand onto her lap and intertwines their fingers, thinking about how gorgeous Brittany looks in the low glow of the restaurant lights. Before Santana gets a chance to tell her so, their food arrives. A handful of meatballs sit atop a tangle of spaghetti on Brittany's plate.

"There's more sauce on this than the spaghetti and meatballs at Breadstix," Brittany observes, wrinkling her nose. "I'm going to get tomato sauce all over my face."

Santana hides her smile. "You could rock that look."

"Yeah, but it's really hot. I might burn myself." Brittany looks deep in thought for a moment. "Can I just feed you a meatball? That's kind of the same thing, right? I mean, what if we don't end up slurping the same strand of spaghetti?" She frowns. "Then I don't get to kiss you at all."

Santana laughs, nuzzling her nose against Brittany's cheek. "You can kiss me as many times as you want."

Brittany smiles and picks up her fork. "Holding you to that."

\--

The two of them would've stayed out all night in the city if they didn't have curfew to meet, but unfortunately, by quarter to nine, they reluctantly begin to hightail it back to the hotel. On their way up, they stop by Miss Pillsbury's room to check in, only to discover that Mercedes and Tina had apparently struck up a deal to get Miss Pillsbury to keep quiet about their room swap. Santana flushes at the realization, but Brittany bumps her hip suggestively against Santana's, and suddenly that doesn't seem to matter much anymore.

When they reach their hotel room, Santana rummages around in her purse until she finds her key card, pulls it out, and swipes it. As promised, it's empty when she enters. Someone had even spritzed the room with light perfume.

Brittany reaches over to the wall and flips on the light switch. The dimmer is set low, and the room is bathed in a soft glow. Santana turns to Brittany and brushes a few stray strands of hair away from her cheeks.

"I had a really good time," Santana says lightly.

Brittany beams. "Me too," she replies, shamelessly pulling Santana toward the beds.

But before they make it there, something catches Santana's eye, and she approaches the desk in the corner of the room. Brittany follows behind. A mountain of treats sits atop the desk, from bags of chips and candy bars to a variety of soft drinks, even an unopened bottle of champagne sitting in a bucket of ice.

"Oh wow," Brittany breathes out, "did you and Mercedes raid the vending machines?"

Santana shakes her head, eyeing the pile suspiciously. "Definitely wasn't here when I left."

Brittany picks up a piece of paper tucked under a container of dip and unfolds it. Santana leans over to read over Brittany's shoulder.

_Tina informed me that the two of you were off on a Sapphic rendez-vous. As congratulations, Quinn and I employed Puck to – for lack of a better term – break into the vending machine on the third floor. Enjoy your evening! –Rachel Berry_

Underneath that, in Puck's messy scrawl: _gave up buying alcohol with my fake ID for lent but just found out lent isn't even jewish! fuck everything! enjoy the booze. ps. take pix. plz._

_Ignore Noah. He also attempted to plant a video camera, but I assure you we have removed any surveillance from this room. You are free to do as you please! –Rachel Berry_

And finally, at the bottom of the page, in small, neat handwriting: _Look in the mini-fridge. There's ice cream. –Q_

"They're so sweet," Brittany murmurs as soon as she's done reading. She drops the note back on the desk and picks up a pack of cashews. She pulls it open and pops one in her mouth, then chews thoughtfully.

Santana presses Brittany against the edge of the desk, attaching her lips to Brittany's neck. "Cashews are an aphrodisiac, you know. Supposed to turn you on."

"Mm," Brittany hums, "you're an aphro-whatever. I'm so turned on by you." She drops the cashews back on the desk. "These are just nuts."

Santana laughs and stumbles backward when Brittany nudges her toward the bed. The back of her legs hit the edge of the bed, and she sits down. Brittany climbs to straddle her, knees framing her hips.

"Hi," Brittany says softly.

Santana's hands slip under Brittany's top. "Hi."

Brittany rises just enough to allow Santana to crawl up the bed and lie down on her back. Brittany climbs over her, hands skimming up Santana's sides. Long fingers latch onto the bottom of Santana's dress, and she rolls the fabric up Santana's thighs. Santana lifts her hips enough to let Brittany pull it up to her waist, then sits up and squirms the rest of the way out of the dress, tossing it aside. Brittany is already out of her own pants and shirt by the time Santana reaches behind herself to undo her bra.

It hasn't been an absurdly long time since they'd last been intimate, but the urgency thrums strong through Santana's limbs as she slips out of her underwear.

"Come closer," Santana murmurs, arms reaching out to Brittany's torso. "I need—" She breathes hard.

Brittany complies, shifting closer as she removes the last few articles of clothing covering her body. Santana's head turns to catch Brittany's lips in a suddenly-desperate kiss. Brittany's naked body presses against Santana's, and it feels familiar and comfortable in a way she'll never be able to explain. Santana dips her tongue into Brittany's mouth, tasting her. The grunt Brittany lets out from the back of her throat makes Santana squeeze her thighs together, her hands gliding up Brittany's sides until she finds the curve of Brittany's breasts.

Brittany's lips slide down to Santana's neck, her right palm resting on Santana's hipbone. Santana groans, arching up to Brittany's touch.

"Brittany."

Brittany stills, lifting her head to look at Santana. "What?" she asks, planting a soft kiss to the corner of Santana's mouth.

"Nothing, I—" Santana reaches up and tucks Brittany's hair behind her ear. "I think you're really cute."

Brittany, cheeks already tinged pink, breaks out into a grin. "I know."

"Not just cute; you're totally hot, too. And so fun to be around, and—"

Brittany laughs. "Santana."

Santana smiles faintly, her fingertips brushing Brittany's cheek. "Let me finish?"

Brittany's features turn serious. "Okay."

"Okay." Santana echoes. She takes a deep breath. "I know I've hurt you in the past couple of weeks. I've said and done some things that were honestly crappy. And I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize," Brittany reassures her, but Santana catches the momentary flash of uncertainty. "I know you were trying."

"Doesn't mean I get to hurt you," Santana counters. "God, Britt. I was so scared that I'd keep stumbling around you forever, and I just—"

Brittany cuts her off with a light kiss. "The milk is already on the floor, and you mopped it up anyway."

Santana's fingertips skirt down Brittany's back. "I love you."

Brittany's nose brushes Santana's. "I love _you_. Can we have sex now?"

"As many times as you want," Santana answers with a laugh as she pulls Brittany closer.

Brittany's eyes brighten. "Holding you to that, too."

Brittany shifts, sliding her leg between Santana's thighs, parting them. Santana's head rolls back, her hips bucking up at the friction. Brittany laughs, peppering kisses across Santana's face and jaw, down her neckline. She sucks lightly at the skin there, her fingers teasing along Santana's inner thighs.

Santana clutches Brittany's hips. "Britt…"

Brittany smiles against Santana's neck. "Mm?"

"Please, I—oh, _god_."

Brittany slides her hand higher, brushing against Santana's heat. The pad of Brittany's thumb swirls Santana's clit. She lifts her head and props herself up with her elbow, her fingers tangling in Santana's splayed hair. Their lips brush lightly before sliding urgently against each other, Brittany's ministrations between Santana's thighs picking up pace. Brittany's tongue dips past Santana's parted lips as she slides two fingers in. Santana arches, a pleased groan escaping her throat.

Brittany grinds down against Santana's leg as she thrusts faster, her fingers moving in tandem with her mouth to work Santana up. Santana's hands slide helplessly over Brittany's skin, touching everywhere she can reach. Brittany lifts her head, pulling away from the kiss.

"Open your eyes," she whispers. "I want to watch you."

Santana's eyes flutter open, and Brittany smiles, dusting kisses along Santana's jaw. Brittany adds a third finger, her thumb slowly stroking Santana's clit, and it doesn't take long before Santana's panting against Brittany's cheek, her body tensing as pleasure courses through her. She cries out, hips grinding as Brittany helps her ride out her orgasm.

As soon as Santana catches her breath, she flips Brittany over and slides down her body, latching her lips onto a nipple and swirling her tongue around it. Brittany moans, her hands finding the back of Santana's neck and holding her there. After a few minutes of teasing, Brittany's grip loosens, and Santana kisses a path down Brittany's breasts, across her abdomen, over her navel, finally settling between her spread thighs.

Santana reaches up to grab hold of Brittany's hands before diving down, pressing her tongue flat against Brittany's clit. Brittany squirms, her hips thrashing from side to side. Santana brings her hands, still wrapped around Brittany's, down to hold Brittany's hips in place, and she smirks before letting the tip of her tongue skirt teasingly along Brittany's entrance.

"Santana," Brittany moans, back arching.

Santana thrusts her tongue, suddenly overwhelmed by the sheer force of the memory of the first time she'd done this, nearly two years ago. She'd convinced herself then that it'd merely been a manifestation of her hormones, that the way she'd felt everything shifting into place had just been the thrill of a new experience.

Now she knows better. Now she understands why she feels what she does. Now she can keep her eyes open and be intimate with her girlfriend – her _girlfriend_ – without fearing what it means. She knows what it means.

Brittany's fingers squeeze Santana's as she bucks against Santana's mouth, and Santana tries to keep her grounded as she works Brittany's clit with her tongue and teeth. She licks all around Brittany before bringing one of her hands down to touch with eager fingers.

Santana lifts herself higher to plant a kiss on Brittany's abdomen as she dips the tips of her fingers into Brittany.

Santana licks her lips. "Okay?"

Brittany nods, her flushed cheeks a blur of pink. Her free hand slips to the top of Santana's head, applying light pressure when Santana sinks into her with two fingers. Santana nips at the skin across Brittany's abdomen as she thrusts, slowly at first, faster when Brittany wiggles impatiently under Santana's weight.

Slipping under Brittany's hand, Santana drags her lips back down and sucks gently at Brittany's clit. She feels Brittany's thighs tightening, and she moves quicker, twisting her fingers and scraping her teeth gently against sensitive skin. The muscles on Brittany's abdomen clench suddenly, and she cries out Santana's name as she rockets over the edge.

Santana keeps her eyes on Brittany, watching as she rolls her own hand over her breast, pinching the nipple. Santana moans, feeling a rush of pleasure shoot through her at the sight.

Eventually, Brittany's limbs sag, and Santana slows her movements to a stop. Withdrawing her fingers, she climbs back up along the length of Brittany's torso, collapsing against Brittany's collarbone. She shuts her eyes and breathes in, listening to the thump of Brittany's heart in her ribcage.

Brittany's hand brushes Santana's cheek, then her lips and chin. "That was awesome," Brittany hums.

Santana grins, content. "Yeah."

Brittany drops a kiss on Santana's forehead. "Ready for round two?"

Santana's palm presses against Brittany's side. "You bet."

\--

Brittany stirs, mumbling something incoherent in her sleep as she snuggles closer to Santana. It's early in the morning, and though they'd exhausted themselves overnight, Santana is already wide awake, reliving moments from the previous night.

"What're you thinking about?" Brittany asks sleepily, struggling to keep one eye open.

Santana twists their fingers together. "About how this is what our life could be like. That we could just… go out whenever we wanted to, and I could kiss you without people making a big fuss." She buries her face against Brittany's hair. "Let's run away."

Brittany's eyes snap open. "What?"

"Yeah, screw everything." Santana takes a deep breath. "Let's just—I want to be with you."

Brittany rolls over, the length of her torso covering Santana's side as she hovers over her. Brittany's palms are warm against Santana's cheeks when she leans down to kiss her, once, softly. "Baby, we can't do that," she murmurs against her lips.

Santana shuts her eyes and breathes in the scent of Brittany's skin. "I know. I just—"

"One more year. I'll pass all my classes, and then…" Brittany wrinkles her nose. "I don't know if I want to go to college. Maybe for dance, but Miss Pillsbury tells me I still have to take general education classes, and I don't know if I can…"

"You've been talking to Miss P?" Santana asks, something in her chest shifting at the realization that Brittany, with her liberal take things as they come attitude, had been looking into securing her future, too.

"Yeah," Brittany replies with a small smile. "I don't want to be stuck in Lima while you're off being glamorous." Her nose nudges Santana's. "I'd miss you too much."

Santana rolls Brittany over, pinning her to the mattress. "I love you."

Brittany beams. "I love you too."

Santana rests her head back down against the pillow, taking in the sight of blond hair and sleepy blue eyes. It's everything she wants, laid out in front of her against the first streaks of the morning sun peeking through the curtains.

"We'll be okay," Santana says to nobody in particular, tracing Brittany's jaw with her fingertip.

Brittany hums in agreement, then echoes, "Yeah, we'll totally be okay."

 

_fin_


End file.
